


Twas Friday the 13th

by Speary



Series: Season 11 Coda Fics [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x6, Bunker Fluff, Coda, Destiel - Freeform, Friday the 13th - Freeform, M/M, Poetry, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5209505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speary/pseuds/Speary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a short poetic coda for 11x6. It is a play on the poem "Twas the Night Before Christmas." </p><p>Dean needs to talk with Cas, but can't summon up wit.<br/>Perhaps in this poem he find ways to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twas Friday the 13th

Twas Friday the 13th and all through the bunker,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a brother.

 

The coats were all hung on the hooks with care,

Leaving all of them just a little more bare.

 

The angel was nestled all snug in a bed.

Visions from Netflix still danced in his head.

 

And I in my robe gave your door such a knock.

I knew it was late, but we really needed to talk.

 

When deep in my chest my heartbeat grew faster,

I froze in the doorway imagining how talk becomes disaster.

 

Away from the doorway I sprang in a flash,

Knocking over papers and furniture with a clash.

 

The world outside was covered in snow.

The moon lighting up a world in which I had nowhere to go.

 

When what to my frustrated eyes should appear,

But Cas in his socks and a face that I fear.

 

His look was all sympathy, and it made me sick.

I had to explain my actions. Best make it quick.

 

More rapid than possible he came,

Standing all too near me and saying my name.

 

“Now Dean,” he said with reverence it seemed.

And something about it was as I had dreamed.

 

The dream had his face nestled near to my ear,

Telling me the many things I had so longed to hear.

 

And dry leaves now blew past us on this cold night.

I shivered and tried to say something right.

 

I reached out to him, his name on my lips.

I bit back other words. I bit back my quips.

 

So there we did stand alone, just us two.

I said, “I’m sorry,” and he said it too.

 

Twas Friday the 13th, a day of ill luck,

I hoped to kiss him, not stand here stuck.

 

But I could not move, not even one toe.

I feared all the ways that he could say no.

 

A quirk of a smile that ran up to his eyes,

Told me I had nothing to fear. I had won this prize.

 

Pressing in close, foreheads and noses,

Intentions clear through my cheeks red like roses.

 

His kiss was warm on that cool winter’s night.

This was just us, which was nothing slight.

 

Eventually we found our way to my room.

It’s Friday the 13th, which should have spelled doom.

 

Yet that’s just the way our love seemed to work.

Darkness sometimes leads to an affectionate perk.

 

So this Friday the 13th fix what was bad.

Love someone well, and heal what was sad.

 

And now that our night is sailing on into day,

We know that the future is our own bright bouquet.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this. If you get bored, you can find me on Tumblr as [Spearywritesstuff](http://spearywritesstuff.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Drop me a comment or a kudos if you liked this. Thanks a bunch.


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